


enough

by gotham_ruaidh



Series: Gotham Writes for Imagine Claire & Jamie [21]
Category: Outlander (TV), Outlander Series - Diana Gabaldon
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-16
Updated: 2015-12-16
Packaged: 2018-05-07 00:19:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 805
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5436191
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gotham_ruaidh/pseuds/gotham_ruaidh
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Continuing Jamie's thoughts on the wedding night, what are his thoughts after he finds out Claire enjoyed their first time together through the rest of the evening</p>
            </blockquote>





	enough

**Author's Note:**

> This was a prompt sent in to [Imagine Claire & Jamie](http://imagineclaireandjamie.tumblr.com/post/135259375162/continuing-jamies-thoughts-on-the-wedding-night) on tumblr. I'm posting my Imagine prompts here on AO3 for easier reading and in case there's anyone here who might not be on tumblr. Do feel free to check out the blog and send in prompts if you have more ideas for our favorite pair!

Dawn filtered through the gauzy curtains of their wedding chamber. Jamie shifted under the sinfully luxurious furs, nose buried in Claire’s hair, legs curling against hers, skin on skin.

He hadn’t slept – couldn’t have slept, though his thighs and back ached from the – exertions – of the night before. The twinge that flashed through his muscles as he held Claire closer was the only thing proving that it all hadn’t been a dream – proving that he was a husband now. Proving that Claire, his Sassenach, his brown-haired lass, was his wife.

His _wife_. _A Dhia._

She’d peaked again as they’d held each other, face to face, his mother’s pearls so beautiful against the glow of Claire’s skin in the firelight. She’d shown him the pleasure that came with being slow and careful – and with denying oneself for a time. The pleasure of deliberately bringing the other person to their own peak.

To see Claire’s face in such ecstasy – and to know that it was _him_ who had given her that gift, was something he wanted for the rest of his days.

If she’d have him.

Jamie swallowed, splaying his hand over the curve of Claire’s hip, thumb gently tracing the arch of her hipbone.

He had no illusions – he knew how difficult the wedding had been for her. How much she had had to be thinking of her first – dead – husband, whom she had clearly loved.

Had _he_ pleased her in such a way? Had _he_ known his way on their wedding night, as a man should?

Jamie’s heart clenched at the realization that Frank – and perhaps other men – had shared in the same secrets of Claire’s body. He didn’t like it – but he had to accept it. Would accept it – just as he had accepted everything about her. Everything she would give him.

He inhaled the curls at her crown, drawing strength from her earthy smell. A smell that now held tinges of him. As it should.

No. None of that. He’d give her the choice when they returned to Leoch, whether or not to live with him as his wife. It was legal between them now – and lovesick fool he was, he’d protect her till the end of his days. But he would never force her to do anything – force her to be someone she was not, or did not wish to be.

Even though there was nothing more he wanted – craved – than to take her home to Lallybroch, provide her a home, a room where she could mix her potions and tend to patients. He could love her under the thick quilt in the laird’s bedroom, wake next to her on cold mornings as the clang of Mrs. Crook’s breakfast preparations drifted upstairs.

Claire had a glass face, to be sure – but there was no telling how she planned to live her life once they got off the road. No telling whether a red-headed husband figured into her plans.

Claire stirred beneath his hands, but sighed and settled back into sleep.

At least he could offer her this – the protection of his body, the comfort of his arms. It had to be enough. It would never be enough.

Was she dreaming of him, right now? Or of the ailments she’d healed, or of the men whose lives had slipped through her capable fingers? Or was she dreaming of the English schoolteacher, the man she’d cried out to in the dark just a few hours before, sounding so lost?

 “ _What goes on in that bonny head of yours_?” he breathed in the _Gaidhlig_ , lips caressing the tender shell of her ear. “ _Will you ever let me in?_ ”

She stirred again, her muscles coming to life below his hand. Mesmerized, he felt her flex her fingers and toes as she gathered herself – and then shift on her side to face him.

She blinked – surprised to see him – and then smiled shyly.

“I’m not used to having a Scotsman in my bed,” she teased, gently running one finger across the valley of his collarbone.

Jamie swallowed. “I should hope not,” he croaked, paralyzed by those whisky eyes – by the fire of her touch – by the mere sight of her, her hair a bushy halo, her skin as smooth and fair and flawless as the pearls that still dangled between her bonny breasts.

Her smile widened – and she peeled back the furs and straddled him, anchoring her hands flat against his quivering chest.

And later, as he held her hips while she panted above him, his thumb still caressing that tiny, magical spot she’d shown him – he wished that time would just stop, that they would be suspended forever in this intoxicating moment.

_I want you. Just you. Now. Forever. I can be what you want. Let me be all that you want. Let me be enough._


End file.
